


any change in time

by thistidalwave



Series: Gifted Camp 'verse [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Gen, Prank Wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 17:12:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5548658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thistidalwave/pseuds/thistidalwave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the year you turn eighteen, you can’t attend camp anymore. Come fall, it’s time to take your first steps into the adult world. For Connor, that means going to university near home. For Dylan, that means going to university on the other side of the country. For both of them, it means saying goodbye to the way things have always been.</p><p>Connor’s not sure he’s ready.</p>
            </blockquote>





	any change in time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jbmaunier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbmaunier/gifts).



On a non-descript day a few months after Connor turned fourteen, he woke up to a sound not unlike being in the middle of a crowd in his head. There was the beginning of a headache forming behind his eyes, and he shut them tight and didn’t get out of bed.

Fifteen minutes later, when his mom came to check on him, he heard her very clearly say, “Well, he doesn’t have a fever,” as she pressed a hand to his forehead—except her mouth didn’t move. She hadn’t said it out loud at all. 

—

It got worse before it got better. Gifts are always unpredictable and hard to control, so it doesn't really come as a surprise. The surprise is that, unlike with other Gifts, when Connor puts on silver, his Gift isn’t neutralized. It just gets worse.

Normally he can hear all of everyone’s thoughts, though it’s hard to pick individual ones out of the wall of noise—but when he’s wearing silver, he can only hear thoughts about himself. It might be an improvement from the deafening roar otherwise, but Connor hates it. As if that wasn’t awful enough, his entire body glows slightly all the time, and silver is the only thing that stops it, so it’s either have people staring at him because he’s glowing or be able to very clearly hear every little thing they think about him.

Connor is the first one in his family to be Gifted, so no one really knew—or knows—how to deal with it. Connor visited a lot of specialists and did a lot of meditating exercises in those first few months, but the most he accomplished is being able to turn the thoughts into a slightly quieter buzz. 

Then his parents sent him to a special summer camp for Gifted kids, and Connor met Dylan.

—

Dylan’s Gift is invisibility. It’s not a literal thing, he doesn’t evaporate into the air or something like that, but he can make people look past him when they’re looking right at him. 

That first summer, Dylan and Connor are bunkmates in Cabin 4. They stick together from practically the first minute of camp because it’s easier to latch onto someone and socialize together than it would be to go it alone.

Dylan spent a lot of time accidentally flickering out of existence, making Connor’s eyes skip over him and leaving the niggling thought that there’s something or someone that he was forgetting. It was barely a week into the summer when Dylan grabbed onto Connor’s arm in an attempt to get his attention after he disappeared, and Connor’s world went quiet.

He was wearing his silver necklace because he had a headache that morning and was tired of people asking him what his Gift was that it made him glow all the time. (No one would dare do that usually, but apparently it’s okay to talk about that kind of stuff at camp. Connor’s still not sure how he feels about that.) If he were anyone else, the silver would stop other people’s Gifts from working on him, but that’s never been the case for Connor. He’s never been more grateful for it than right then; with Dylan touching him, Connor can’t hear people’s thoughts about him. No one is thinking about him because he’s invisible. Out of sight, out of mind. 

“I didn’t know I could do that,” Dylan said, staring at his hand on Connor’s arm. 

Connor smiled at him. “It’s amazing,” he said.

—

For Connor, camp comes to mean safety. It means six weeks where no one really cares that he’s the wonder boy that silver doesn’t work on, six weeks of running around in the sun and not thinking about his responsibilities, and most of all, six weeks with Dylan at his side. 

They hang out occasionally during the rest of the year—they were over the moon when they realized they only live an hour’s drive away from each other—but for four years, they’ve spent the entire summer living in each other’s pockets, sleeping in the same bunk and going to the same activities. 

After the year you turn eighteen, you can’t attend camp anymore. Come fall, it’s time to take your first steps into the adult world. For Connor, that means going to university near home. For Dylan, that means going to university on the other side of the country. For both of them, it means saying goodbye to the way things have always been.

Connor’s not sure he’s ready.

—

“Connor!” Dylan shouts when Connor bangs open the door to Cabin 4. “You made it!” He launches himself off the top bunk and onto the floor, throwing his arms around Connor. Connor stumbles backward and drops his bags before wrapping his arms around Dylan and squeezing him back. 

“Of course I made it, idiot,” Connor says into Dylan’s shoulder. “What, did you think I’d get lost?” 

Dylan lets him go and shrugs. “You never know with you.” 

Connor rolls his eyes. “Late to someone’s party _once_ because you took a wrong turn, and you never hear the end of it.”

“Damn right,” Dylan says, grinning. He pauses, looking Connor up and down. “Shit, man, it’s good to see you.” 

Connor refrains from pointing out that they saw each other at both their graduations. He knows exactly what Dylan means—seeing each other for the first time in the summer is a whole different thing. 

“Good to see you, too,” Connor says, and then he wrestles Dylan into a headlock so he can give him a noogie as a proper greeting. 

They start making up their bunks after that. Dylan steals one of Connor’s fluffier pillows just like always, and Connor steals one of Dylan’s many blankets. Connor tries very hard not to think about how it’s the last time they’ll ever do it. He only mostly succeeds. 

—

“There he is,” Dylan says at campfire the first night. “The _enemy_.”

Connor doesn’t have to look to know who Dylan is talking about, but he does anyway. Sure enough, across from them is Mitch, sitting with the rest of Cabin 2. He’s been attending camp as long as they have, and they’ve been engaged in a friendly (Connor is pretty sure it’s friendly, at least, and he should know) rivalry since two weeks into their first year, when Mitch accidentally turned Dylan’s skin fuchsia. It wasn’t so much the accident as that Mitch thought it was hilarious that soured Dylan to him, and even though it wore off after a couple hours, its emotional effect was long-lasting.

Mitch looks over at them, like he felt their eyes on him, and smirks, lifting his hand in a wave. 

_“Hey, boys,_ ” Connor hears as clearly as he would if Mitch were speaking loudly. _“Ready for a fun-filled summer?”_

“Mitch says hi,” Connor reports, and Dylan snorts. 

“The 2015 prank war is officially _on_ ,” Dylan says. Mitch’s responding laughter is loud and clear. 

—

“Am I going crazy,” Brinksy asks when they’re walking back to Cabin 4 after campfire, “or did everyone else see the weird things in the fire, too?” 

“I kept thinking a fire dragon was about to eat me,” Lawson says. Everyone nods; they all saw it. 

“It was Cabin 2,” Connor reports grimly. “Willy has that hallucination power, remember? We were being pranked. The whole camp thinks we’re weird for all the ducking we were doing.” 

“ _Mitchell_ ,” Dylan hisses angrily. 

And with that, Connor thinks, camp really has begun.

—

Dylan is all about the classic pranks, so a couple nights later, a selected few pranksters are sneaking into Cabin 2 armed with string, tape, honey, and feathers. They’re all holding on to each other in a line so that Dylan’s invisibility and Brinksy’s silence can be spread to everyone except Connor, who hides just outside in his perpetual role as the lookout. Over the years he’s perfected a pretty good bird call that serves as a warning if anyone approaches or starts waking up. 

No one does—the closest call they run into is when they get back to their own cabin. Connor stops them all in their tracks with an outstretched arm. “I think Brendan is awake,” he whispers.

Brendan is one of their co-counsellors along with Alex. They’re constantly arguing, and they’ve created mini-tornadoes in Cabin 4 more than once with the combination of their sun and rain powers, but they’re pretty good counsellors anyway. “Maybe it’s okay,” Dylan whispers back. “Brendan appreciates a good prank.”

Regardless, they can’t stay standing outside the cabin all night. They sneak back in carefully. Everyone else is masked in Dylan and Brinksy’s powers, and they all freeze when Brendan sits up as Connor walks past his bunk and whispers, “Hey.”

“Just me,” Connor whispers back. “I went to the bathroom.”

He can hear that Brendan is having suspicious thoughts, but he doesn’t voice any of them, just lies back down and faces the wall. Everyone waits for a moment, breath held, and then quickly breaks ranks and gets into their bunks. 

_“Nailed it,”_ Dylan thinks at Connor when everyone is safe and sound. Connor smiles up at the top bunk even though Dylan can’t see him.

—

Mitch still has feathers stuck in his hair at breakfast the next morning, and all of Cabin 2 looks disgruntled. Brendan and Alex swear up and down to anyone and everyone who asks that their entire cabin was in their bunks all night. 

“We’re going to be taking down string _all summer,_ ” Christian from Cabin 2 complains loudly. 

Connor makes eye contact with Dylan for a split second and both of them have to look away immediately, biting their lips hard to keep from laughing. 

Connor fucking loves camp.

—

“Careful,” Connor says to Dylan during swimming days later. He’s slowly burying one of his legs in the sand for lack of anything better to do while Dylan has an angry staring contest with Mitch, who isn’t even participating in the contest part of the staring. “You’re being obvious.”

“I just hate him,” Dylan says. 

“You’re breaking the most important prankster rule,” Connor points out. “You can’t show that he got to you.” They have this conversation every year, but Dylan is always awful at not wearing his emotions on his sleeve.

“Ugh,” Dylan says, collapsing in the sand next to Connor and putting his head in Connor’s lap. 

Mitch somehow managed to get into all of Cabin 4’s clothing when they weren’t there and turn it various shades of neon. Unlike when he changes the colour of living things, inanimate objects can stay that colour indefinitely, so they’re all pretty much doomed until someone convinces Mitch to turn them back—or, more likely, for the rest of the summer. Connor’s clothes are all an unflattering and blinding orange, but he doesn’t really care. Dylan’s, however, are fuchsia, because there’s nothing Mitch likes more than reminding Dylan of their very first summer.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Connor says, “I think you look very nice in fuchsia.” 

Dylan stares up at him, a betrayed look on his face, and then he tackles Connor right into the sand. Connor laughs hysterically, spitting sand out of his mouth and struggling to get Dylan off him. “Take it back,” Dylan demands, holding Connor’s arms behind his back. “Take it back right now.” 

Connor is still laughing. “I won’t,” he says. “It’s true!” 

“You’re the worst best friend in the history of the universe,” Dylan tells him, but he lets Connor go. 

“Same to you,” Connor says, sitting up and attempting to brush the sand out of his hair. The inside of his chest is suddenly aching all over again. What if after this summer they _aren’t_ best friends anymore? Dylan is going to be so far away, Connor has no idea if he even wants to stay in contact. For all Connor can read people’s thoughts, he can’t make them think about what he wants to know.

He tackles Dylan instead of thinking about it anymore. 

—

It takes almost two weeks of wheedling and multiple bribes of doing chores for him, getting him alcohol from in town, and putting in a good word with the girl he’s into, but the collective force of Cabin 4 eventually convinces Jack to help them put Cabin 2’s furniture on their roof. It’s a lot easier to do with the power to make things float.

Three days later, they return to their cabin after lunch and everything is floating in a clump by the ceiling.

“Marner’s much more convincing than you,” Jack tells them during crafts, nonchalantly lining sequins up along his picture frame. “It should come back down eventually.”

Dylan is bright red with rage. For a second, he flickers out of everyone’s awareness. Connor puts a hand on his shoulder and is gratified when he relaxes. 

—

“I can’t believe it’s our last summer,” Dylan says, voicing exactly what’s been repeating in Connor’s head since the very first day.

They’ve snuck out of the cabin after lights out, just the two of them, and they’re wandering along the edge of the lake. Connor stops and picks up a rock, trying and utterly failing to skip it. “I know,” he says. “I can’t believe we’re going to college after this.” 

He glances at Dylan cautiously. His expression is unreadable, but here in the dead of night, everyone in the vicinity’s thoughts sleeping rather than loud, he can easily hear what Dylan’s thinking. He tries not to, but he can’t help catching at least snippets.

 _”Can’t wait to get out of here,”_ Dylan is thinking, and Connor tries not to visibly cringe. “That’ll be fun, sure,” Dylan says, “but we’re gonna have the best last summer ever, right, Davo?” 

Dylan slings an arm around Connor’s shoulders and shakes him a little. Connor puts his own arm around Dylan’s waist and nods. _Last summer_ is still repeating over and over in his head, but now it’s in Dylan’s voice, steady like the ticking of a countdown clock. Connor wishes he could stop it and live in this moment forever. 

—

All their things stopped floating within a few hours, but Dylan still gets annoyed anytime someone brings it up, so of course Mitch says something every time they see him. Dylan also refuses to let anyone retaliate until they’ve waited awhile, saying that Cabin 2 needs to sweat first. Connor is pretty sure Dylan is working himself up more than anyone from Cabin 2, but he’s not about to try to convince Dylan of that. 

Connor wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s not having a great summer himself, because he really is; he’s pretty sure it’s impossible to have a bad time at summer camp. But it’s all marred by the knowledge that everything is a last time. He gets people asking what’s up with him more and more frequently, and even more people are thinking it but _not_ asking, which is almost more annoying. 

It takes a week and a half before Dylan gives in and declares it time for payback, and then it takes another day for them to make and put a plan into motion. A few of them who aren’t in a small or super-involved activity group for the second block of the day sneak away in the middle of it and meet up at Cabin 2. 

Connor and Dylan have crafts, which is easy to ditch, especially when counsellors are used to you literally disappearing periodically. Connor takes a couple small containers of glitter with them, and Dylan beams at him when he sees.

“Perfect,” he says, and it reminds Connor so strongly of all the times they’ve played this exact prank over the years that he stops in his tracks for a moment. Dylan is holding on to his arm to maintain their invisibility, and he has to stop walking when Connor does. “What?” he asks, glancing around nervously.

“Nothing,” Connor says, shaking it off. 

Lawson, Darnell, and Aaron meet them, and they all split up inside to do different things. Connor is tasked with tactfully dumping glitter in various places so they’ll be finding it for the rest of the summer, Lawson is on itching powder duty, Darnell puts food colouring in as many bottles of hair products as he can, and Aaron and Dylan both work on short sheeting all the beds.

They all have enough experience that the work is quick, and Connor’s stomach flips with nostalgia the entire time. He crosses paths with Dylan in the middle of the cabin and gives him a small smile. “Remember when you had to teach me how to short sheet?” he asks Dylan.

“Hmm?” Dylan asks, and then, “Oh, yeah.” He laughs shortly, preoccupied. Connor shouldn’t feel stung by it, but he does anyway. 

Connor is still carefully spreading glitter when everyone else is done. He pauses when he gets to what he recognizes as Mitch’s bunk, considering. He wonders what Mitch is doing after the summer, if this is the last time they’re ever going to screw with Mitch’s stuff. He considers too long, because the next thing he knows, Dylan is behind him. “What are you doing?” he asks. “You look all sentimental, are you gonna paint hearts with the glitter or some shit? We gotta get out of here.” 

“Sorry,” Connor says, dumping the remaining glitter inside Mitch’s sleeping bag. “Let’s go.”

—

Connor stares down at his food, picking up the pasta with his fork and letting it drop back down to his plate. Ference always outdoes himself with the cardboard-tasting pasta, and Connor’s been feeling vaguely nauseous lately anyway. 

It’s as if letting himself get sentimental once has opened the floodgates to feeling awful about every little thing. He keeps wondering where people are going after camp, what they’re going to do, and then he thinks about what _he’s_ going to do, and he doesn’t _know_. Then he gets thinking about Dylan and his amazing plans to go live a fun new life on the coast learning how to be a physiotherapist or whatever, and he wants to lie down and never get up again. 

Needless to say, he doesn’t have much of an appetite, and Ference’s awful food isn’t helping. Connor should have just got salad. Ference is good at salad.

“Hey,” Dylan says as he sits down next to Connor. He got up a little while ago, but Connor didn’t pay attention to where he went. “I got you some jello and juice. You look like you need it.” 

Connor looks at the dish of bright blue jello Dylan is pushing toward him and is horrified when tears threaten. Dylan is just so _great_ , he’s the best friend Connor’s ever had, and Connor doesn’t want to _lose that_. He takes the jello and the spoon and takes a bite. Even Ference can’t fuck up jello. “Thanks,” Connor mumbles.

“Of course,” Dylan says. “You okay?” 

Connor shrugs, and Dylan looks at him appraisingly. A moment later, Dylan takes his hand and makes them both invisible. It’s something he’s been doing whenever Connor looks overwhelmed since they realized he could, and he always knows exactly when to do it. 

It’s just unfortunate, Connor thinks, that he doesn’t know it wasn’t everyone else’s thoughts that Connor was overwhelmed by this time. It was his own, and Dylan can’t save him from those.

—

“Stromer,” Connor calls from the top of the ropes course, “how do I do this?” 

He can hear Dylan scoff, but it’s not _Connor’s_ fault he doesn’t get this stupid activity even after more than a week of doing it. All the buckles and snaps and shit are confusing. Thankfully, Dylan starts thinking about Connor doing it, and Connor just has to follow along with his imagined self. 

Connor gets through the zipline part easy enough, and he and Dylan wait for Zach from Cabin 2 to be done the tightrope before they start. When Zach gets to the platform at the other end, he turns around and smirks at them. “Good luck!” he calls.

“Why is he so smug?” Dylan asks. 

Connor shrugs. He’s doing a pretty good job of suppressing most indirect thoughts into a dull buzz at the moment, and Zach isn’t thinking anything incriminating about Connor, so he has no idea. 

What Zach was smirking about immediately becomes clear when Dylan tries three times in a row to balance on the tightrope and goes sliding off every time. Jordan, the ropes counsellor, comes over to see what’s going on, and when neither of them can explain, narrows his eyes.

“Let me see the bottom of your foot,” Jordan tells Dylan, and Dylan obediently lifts one. “Ah, yep.”

The treads of his runners are melted into smooth rubber. When Connor looks at his own, they’re the same. 

“This is a fucking _weak_ prank,” Dylan fumes under his breath. “God damn heat manipulating fucker.” He glares across the ropes at Zach. 

“Breathe,” Connor reminds him. It _is_ weak, but it also means that the members of Cabin 4 are now not only wearing neon clothes everywhere, but also liable to fall down at any moment. At least they’re over halfway through camp, but Connor dreads the inevitable day it decides to rain almost as much as he dreads the end of camp. He’s kind of impressed, not that he’d ever tell Dylan that. “We’ll get them back.” 

“We better,” Dylan says grimly.

—

Unfortunately, they’re kind of running out of good prank ideas. They have a cabin meeting during their turn doing the dishes, but the closest thing to a good idea that anyone comes up with is Brinksy’s suggestion that they hide in the woods and pretend to be ghosts outside Cabin 2. Naturally, that’s what they end up deciding to do.

Neon clothes are not, among many other things, good for stealth operations, but it’s not like any of them have anything but. They make do, doing their best to spread out and disguise themselves in the woods around Cabin 2 and wait for them to turn out the lights and go to sleep. By all rights, they should be in their own cabin, but they created a duct tape wall around Brendan’s and Alex’s bunks the night before and convinced them it was Cabin 2, so they’ve been given their blessing to exact revenge. 

Cabin 2 seems particularly energetic tonight. From where they’re hidden behind the cabin, they can hear them singing, and none of them seem to be thinking about sleep. Connor sighs and clears Dylan and himself a spot to sit down. “I think we’re gonna be here awhile,” he whispers. 

He can just barely see Dylan nod and join him on the ground. They sit in silence for a few minutes, and then Dylan bumps his shoulder gently against Connor’s. “While we’re here,” he whispers, “why don’t you tell me what’s been making you act so weird this summer?” 

Connor freezes. “Uh,” he whispers back, “what are you talking about?” 

“Don’t play dumb,” Dylan replies. “You’ve been moping. Why?” 

Connor considers denying it, but Dylan knows him too well for that, and even if he didn’t, Connor has to admit he’s been pretty obvious. “It’s stupid,” he says.

“So are you,” Dylan says, “and I hang out with you all the time, so what’s one more stupid thing?” 

Connor rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he says. He pauses, trying to figure out how to say this in a way that doesn’t make him sound pathetic. He comes up with nothing. “I guess I just keep thinking about it being our last summer,” he says, “and we’re going to be so far away from each other, so who knows what’ll happen to our friendship. It freaks me out, and it sucks.” 

“Agreed,” Dylan says, and Connor looks up at him, confused. “I mean, about it sucking and being far away, not the ‘who knows what will happen to our friendship’ thing. We’re still gonna be friends, Davo.”

“We are?” Connor asks, forgetting entirely to be self-conscious about it. 

“Fucking duh,” Dylan says. “You’re my best friend, dude.” 

Connor bites his lip. “It would be so easy to lose touch,” he says. “And I thought you were excited to leave,” 

“To go to _college_ , yeah,” Dylan says, “but not to leave _you_. It’s called the internet, Connor, we both know how to use it.” 

“Oh,” Connor says. He feels like an idiot. “Of course, yeah.”

“‘Of course, yeah’,” Dylan mimics, high-pitched, and then laughs quietly. “Sometimes I wonder about you.” 

“You probably should,” Connor admits, and Dylan laughs again. 

“Does this mean you’re going to stop grumping around ruining all the fun now?” Dylan asks. “Are you ready to fully commit yourself to making these last few weeks the best summer camp experience ever?” 

“Yeah, I think I am,” Connor says. He tilts his head, listening. He doesn’t hear anything, and Cabin 2’s thoughts are mostly of soft things and settling down to sleep. “And I think we’re almost ready to make like ghosts.”

Dylan peers into the darkness. “Lights are definitely out,” he says. “Ten more minutes, you think?” 

“Bird call at the ready,” Connor agrees.

—

It’s not that they don’t manage to freak out Cabin 2 pretty thoroughly with their whole shaking the trees and making subtle scary noises routine, because Connor knows for a fact they were scared, but it really was a dumb prank. Everyone agrees that a prank war that lasts five years is a prank war that has gone on long enough. 

“We have to get someone to decide on a winner,” Brinksy points out, and that’s how they end up recruiting Cabin 12, as the reigning prank queens after they pulled one over on the entire camp a few years back, to be the judges.

It’s decreed that the Starlight Dance the last week of camp will be where both their final pranks take place, and that the girls will have complete and total final say on who the winner is. 

“Good luck,” Shenae tells them, beaming. 

Connor would be afraid if he couldn’t read their minds and didn’t know that they’re just being intimidating because it’s funny. He’s not entirely sure he isn’t anyway. 

—

They’re all on their guard the day of the dance. They don’t go anywhere alone, and they don’t leave the cabin unattended unless they absolutely have to. Unfortunately, meals are a time when they have to, and when they return after supper to get ready for the dance, all their nice clothes they brought for it are half the size they were before, more appropriate for dolls than for humans.

“Not bad,” Aaron says, holding up his now-tiny—and still cyan, like all the rest of his clothes—button down. “This is Christian’s Gift, right?” 

Connor looks at his bright orange suit jacket and shrugs. “I think so, yeah,” he says.

Dylan is holding his tiny fuchsia tie. “I mean, it’s not that good a prank, either,” he says. 

“Yeah, our clothes are all the same colour already,” Connor agrees. “And dressing fancy isn’t _mandatory_ , so it doesn’t really matter.”

“I think we’ve got this in the fuckin’ bag,” Dylan says gleefully.

—

The plan was this: Darnell will use his charm and good looks—but mostly his good looks, because they didn’t want to exploit his Gift too much—to convince Kendall, a girl with the Gift of making physical manifestations of emotions, that she wants to do them a favour. They’ll then take advantage of Cabin 2’s new herd tendencies to inflict Kendall’s Gift on all of them right as they’re getting ready for the dance. The result should be tiny little nervous balls following them around all night, because of course their primary emotion right before the dance would be nerves. It wouldn’t work on anyone wearing silver, but they already know that most of Cabin 2 doesn’t bother.

Darnell is very good looking, so that part was pretty much in the bag, and from there everything turned out to be smooth sailing. More of the boys than they thought have manifestations of excitement rather than nerves, but it doesn’t matter, because Mitch… well, Mitch is apparently experiencing a truly unique emotion right when Kendall’s Gift latches onto him.

“Uh oh,” Connor says when Mitch’s thoughts come into his radius. They’re at the punch table at the dance, avoiding the dance floor. “Someone’s very angry.”

A second later, Mitch is grabbing Dylan’s shoulder and spinning him around. “Strome, _why_ do I have a miniature version of _you_ yapping away on my shoulder?” Mitch demands. 

Everyone stares. Sure enough, there’s a tiny Dylan on Mitch’s shoulder. It squeaks something no one can hear, but Mitch clearly understands, because he turns a brighter shade of pink. 

“I honestly couldn’t tell you,” Dylan says, still staring. 

“What the _fuck_ ,” Mitch says. “Everyone else just has little spheres that make them feel nervous or whatever, which, good job, the girls said you definitely won. But why do I have _you_?” 

“Again,” Dylan starts, “I honestly—”

“You were annoyed by Dylan when I used my Gift,” Kendall interrupts, walking up with Darnell on her arm. “That’s what happens. It’s not the first time I’ve done it.” She makes an apologetic face. “He’ll go away in a few hours. The tiny one, anyway.”

“Oh, good,” Mitch says, “what a relief.” He stomps off, everyone watching him go.

“I kind of feel sorry for him,” Connor says. 

Dylan mock-gasps. “You _what _?”__

__“Well, we just won the prank war, apparently,” Connor says, “and it’s his last summer, too, and now he has to deal with two of you. No one should have to deal with two of you.”_ _

__“I’m a delight,” Dylan grumbles, and Connor laughs._ _

__“I’m going to find whatever bottle of alcohol whichever counsellor used to spike the punch and share it with Mitch,” Connor says. “You coming with?”_ _

__“I guess,” Dylan says. He sounds like it’s the worst thing to ever happen to him, but Connor can tell he really doesn’t mind._ _

__—_ _

__They do find the alcohol and Mitch, and they all get spectacularly drunk. Near the end of the night, they sneak down to the beach and flop down in the sand to stare up at the stars._ _

__“Best summer _ever_ ,” Dylan slurs out._ _

__“Hell yeah,” Mitch says._ _

__Connor closes his eyes and lets himself sink into the moment. He feels safe here, Mitch and Dylan on either side of him, the buzz of a crowd of happy thoughts far away at the dance. He’d love nothing more than to stay here forever—but he doesn’t have to. There will be other moments like this one._ _

__“Fucking right,” he agrees._ _

__—_ _

__It’s blistering hot on the last day of camp, and there are people everywhere. True to form, Connor’s parents are early to pick him up, but he anticipated it and already has everything packed. Dylan helps him carry all of his shit to the car and then stands there awkwardly, hands shoved into his—once again blue, thankfully—jeans._ _

__“Well,” Connor says, “I guess this is goodbye.”_ _

__“But not forever,” Dylan admonishes him. “I still don’t know _what_ you were thinking.” _ _

__With Dylan smiling at him like that, Connor doesn’t know what he was thinking either. “I’m gonna miss you,” he tells Dylan._ _

__Dylan pulls him in for a hug, and Connor tucks his face into Dylan’s neck. Between one second and the next, the world goes quiet, the buzz of campers and their parents thinking gone. When Connor closes his eyes, they could be the only people in the entire world._ _

__“Gonna miss you too, buddy,” Dylan says. “But again, not forever.”_ _

__Connor rolls his eyes. “I get it,” he says, “I was an idiot and I’m never going to live it down.”_ _

__“Damn right,” Dylan says._ _

__That’s perfectly okay with Connor._ _


End file.
